Comfort And Joy. Fern Michaels
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“See! See! You sound just like my mother. I’m thirty-five years old. It’s time for me to do what I want. I stayed here after my dad died so Mom wouldn’t be alone. I still live at home, for God’s sake. What thirty-five-year-old do you know who still lives at home with their parents?”
“Josh Eagle,” Bess said smartly. “I think he’s thirty-seven, though.”
“Well, he’s leaving, too. I guess that makes us both late bloomers.”
Bess mumbled something that sounded like, “You just tossed your line in the pond, now you’re going to let it sink to the bottom.” Angie ignored her and picked up the phone again to make another call.
Standing outside of both women’s line of sight, Josh Eagle turned on his heel and left as silently as when he arrived. His shoulders were slumped, and he was dragging his feet.
Why should he care if Angie Bradford was leaving in January? He was leaving, too, so he wouldn’t miss her. Would he?
The thought was so disturbing, Josh stopped in the middle of the main floor where all kinds of activity was going on. He felt like one of the mannequins as he watched the merchandise being wheeled out of the store on dollies.
The urge to throw his hands in the air and run as far and as fast as his sneakered feet would take him was so strong, Josh reached out to grasp the edge of one of the counters to hold himself in check.
Damn it to hell, he liked Angie Bradford. Really liked Angie Bradford. For some strange reason he suddenly felt like she’d betrayed him.
Josh made his way to his secret haven, the stairwell that led to the second floor. This was where he always went when things went sour with his father, or when he needed to get a handle on something. He sat down on the steps and looked at the hole in his sneaker over his big toe. He looked around at the gray stone walls that suddenly seemed as gloomy as his thoughts.
Josh knew what he should do, but did he have the guts to do it? For the first two years of his tenure at Eagle’s, he’d spent a lot of time out here in the stairwell trying to decide if he should go toe to toe with his father. Out of respect, he’d never done that, and now here he was. He needed to go to Angie, tell her he’d overheard her conversation, and ask her point-blank what her intentions were. She’d probably tell him it was none of his business, and he’d have to agree with her. But…And there was always a but…He liked her, really liked her. That’s exactly what he should do. No doubt about it. Oh, yeah. So what if she told him it was none of his business? He was a big boy, he could handle a put-down.
Before he could change his mind, Josh banged open the door leading to the main floor of the store, where he retraced his steps.
As soon as he hit the small entryway to the gift department, Josh called Angie’s name. Bess took one look at his face and excused herself.
“What’s up?” Angie looked up from the notes she was making on her pad.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were planning on leaving?” His voice was so cold, so gruff-sounding, Angie felt her heart kick up a beat. She immediately swung into her defense mode, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at the tall, good-looking man towering over her. “What?”
“You heard me. I came down here to talk to you, but you were talking to Bess and I didn’t want to intrude so I waited…”
“And listened to a private conversation. That’s pretty sneaky in my opinion. I don’t think it’s any of your business, Josh. Which brings me to my next question. Why do you care what I do or when I do it as long as it doesn’t interfere with the store?”
Josh hated the stubborn look he was seeing. He was all too familiar with that look. He’d seen it every time they met in court. He advanced a step and sat down on the stool Bess had vacated. He hooked his feet in the rungs and rocked back and forth. “I shouldn’t care, but I do. I’m not sure why that is. I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I’m sorry about that. And, you’re right, Angie, what you do come January is none of my business. I guess I thought…When I told you about leaving, I guess I thought you should have told me about your plans, too. You really should tell your mother. Don’t do what I did with my old man.”
Somewhat mollified, Angie unfolded her arms and stared at the man sitting on the stool. She licked her lips. “I thought about telling you, but there was so much going on. I didn’t want to add to your angst. I know I should have told my mother. If you were listening, then you know I didn’t sign the contract yet. Maybe I’m dragging my feet. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe a lot of things. For some reason I haven’t been able to do that. I love the idea of going back to teaching. I love the kids. Working here was great, too, but Mom and I both knew it was temporary.
“You’re leaving in January, so why should you care if I stay or go? For all either one of us knows, this little…plan we have might not work, and your father ends up having to close the store. It’s all one big crapshoot, Josh.”
“I like you!” Josh blurted. Shit, did he just say that? “I was hoping we could get to know each other better.”
Angie’s head bobbed up and down. She couldn’t believe the words that popped out of her mouth. “I like you, too. I don’t want to fight with you, Josh. I’m sick and tired of walking on eggshells. I do enough of that with my mother, and I’m sure you do the same thing with your father. Let’s just get through the next few months and make decisions later on.”
“But you said you had to sign the contract in three weeks.”
Angie smiled and Josh’s world tilted. “There will be other contracts, other jobs. I’m a good teacher. I’ve had other offers. The California one was just to get me on another coast. Truce?” she asked, holding out her hand.
Josh grinned as he grasped her hand. “Truce. How about dinner tonight?”
“Okay. You’re going to come to my house, ring the bell with flowers in hand, a real date. Or is this business?”
“Nope, a real date. Flowers, eh? I think I can handle that. Does seven thirty work for you?”
“Yes, it works for me, but I was joking about the flowers.”
The conversation was over but Josh didn’t want to leave. “You should see what’s going on out there on the main floor. I’m glad my father isn’t here to see this. He hasn’t called me today. That’s not like him.”
Angie started to laugh and couldn’t stop. “My mother just called a little while ago. Seems your father hired a driver and, as we speak, the two of them are in the Amish country, where they are buying up all the quilts and whatever else the people are willing to sell. They rode from shop to shop in a buggy.”
Josh sucked in his breath and for the life of him couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Uh-huh.”
Eva settled herself in the town car, her legs extended. She flinched at how swollen and red her knee was. There was no doubt about it, she’d overdone it today. She could hardly wait to put the bag of crushed ice on her knee. They’d picked it up at a 7-Eleven store when they left the Amish country.
“How bad is the pain, Eva?” Angus asked, his voice full of concern.
“Probably as bad as yours. We’re two old fools, Angus. At least I am. I didn’t think this little trip through. I didn’t realize we’d have to get in and out of the buggy so many times. I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry. Do you want some of my Advil?”
Angus held out his hand. He swallowed two of the tablets while Eva took three with the soda pop they’d also bought at the 7-Eleven.
“As soon as the ice and Advil kick in, we’ll feel better. You have five weeks on me, Angus. I’m just eight days from surgery. Did you have trouble getting used to the pronged cane?” Eva asked, in the hopes that talking would take her mind off the pain in her knee.
Angus leaned back and closed